


Rev Me Up

by andabatae



Category: Star Wars, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ben Solo eats ass, Ben Solo is an asshole, Ben appreciates this fact, Best in Show, Car Show AU, Classic Cars, Dopheld Mitaka is a smooth operator, Enemies to Lovers, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Hate to Love, House Flydam, Made-up car history, Oregon really does have gas station attendants, Outdoor Sex, Rey can tie cherry stems into knots with her tongue, Rey works at a gas station, Sex Against A Tree, Smut and Snark, The Solo men are bad at communication, Under the table... foot jobs?, WHO HAS THE FANCIEST CAR, rey takes no shit, unhealthy competition
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-06-04
Packaged: 2020-03-19 20:18:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18977620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andabatae/pseuds/andabatae
Summary: Ben Solo's first encounter with Rey Johnson ends in expletives and insults. It's a good thing he won't have to see the bizarrely hostile—and annoying attractive—gas station attendant ever again... or will he?Rey Johnson despises the impossibly rude—and stupidly handsome—city slicker who insulted her at the gas station. When she finds out she'll be exhibiting right next to him at the Niima Classic Car Show, Rey decides to take the asshole down. It's a battle to see who takes home Best in Show... and who takes home a sweeter prize.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea where this idea came from—I just woke up this morning thinking about Oregon gas station attendants, and it kind of spiraled out of control from there. So... here you go!

Ben Solo was ten hours out of San Francisco and still an hour away from Niima, Oregon, when the fuel indicator light blinked on in the dashboard of his 1968 Sienar-Jaemus Silencer. He cursed and smacked the steering wheel—not too hard, because if there was anything in the world Ben cared about, it was this car—and began looking for a gas station.

It had been stupid to let the fuel get so low, but he’d been distracted by thoughts of the miserable work week he’d just finished. Snoke Industries was a hellscape of incompetence and maliciousness, and Ben’s personal nemesis, Armitage Hux, had successfully sabotaged Ben’s presentation to the CEO by swapping out his flash drive for one containing a slideshow dedicated to _My Little Pony_.

Ben had trashed his office, then left work early. Fuck Hux, fuck Snoke, fuck the P&L report he’d spent weeks preparing, and most especially, fuck _My Little Pony_.

At least he had something to look forward to. It was late Saturday afternoon, and the Niima Classic Car Show started on Sunday morning. Ben had always loved auto shows, but for the first time, Ben would be exhibiting his beloved car to the public. He’d spent countless hours refurbishing the sleek black Silencer, and he couldn’t wait to see how it was received.

The glowing beacon of a gas station shone just off the freeway, and Ben exhaled in relief as he guided the Silencer towards the exit. A faded sign greeted him:

_Welcome to Jakku, Oregon  
Population 325 _

He sneered at the sign, wondering how anyone could stand to live in a place like this. The buildings lining the main road were ramshackle, and most of the population appeared to live in trailers. How they’d lucked into having a gas station was beyond him.

He pulled up to a pump and stepped out of his car, then noticed that someone was approaching at a fast clip: a slender woman wearing an oversized, orange-striped gas station uniform. She was pretty, with a blinding smile and chestnut hair tied up in three buns, but Ben had no desire to talk to strangers right now, pretty or not.

“Welcome to Jakku,” she chirped in an improbable British accent, stepping between him and the pump. “What would you like?”

He blinked at her, baffled by her behavior. “I’d like to fill up my car.” He dropped his eyes to her chest to read the nametag: _Rey_.

Rey rolled her eyes a little, although the gesture seemed good-natured, rather than condescending. “Obviously. What fuel grade?”

“The best you have, _obviously_.”

She ignored his sarcastic tone, running an appreciative gaze over his car. “She’s gorgeous, you know. I haven’t seen a Silencer in person in ages.” She rested a hand on the hood and actually stroked it, and Ben saw red.

“Don’t touch my car,” he snapped.

Rey recoiled, and then her eyebrows crashed down. “Wow. No need to get hostile. I’m just saying you have a nice car.”

He sighed. “Will you please just get out of my way?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Let me guess, you’re from out of town?”

“San Francisco.” What did she think this was, a singles mixer?

“Of course you are.” Before Ben could ask what the hell that was supposed to mean, she held her hand out, palm up. “Now give me your credit card.”

_“What?”_

“You heard me.” She snapped her fingers at him. “Credit card. And get back in the car.”

Was this… an attempted mugging? She didn’t have a weapon, as far as he could tell, and Ben was pretty sure he could take her in a fist fight, although he really didn’t like the idea of hitting a woman.

“Look, I can give you some cash,” he said, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket. “How much do you want? Will twenty suffice?” He held out the crisp bill, wondering what Rey the incompetent mugger would spend it on. In a shithole like Jakku, a twenty would probably go far.

She smirked and ignored the extended cash. “I’m going to fill your tank, jackass. So I can either put precisely twenty dollars worth of fuel in it, or you can give me your credit card.”

Ben gaped at her, shocked both by the insult and the notion that he would allow a stranger to fill up his car. “No,” he said. “Just take the money. Buy yourself some weed or something—isn’t that what you people do up here?”

He saw her mouth the words _you people_ , then she shook her head and planted her hands on her hips. “Look, Mr. San Francisco Big Shot, it’s illegal to pump your own gas in Oregon. This is literally my job. Now give me your fucking credit card.”

His mouth opened and closed in a stellar imitation of a goldfish. Of all the ridiculous… “No,” he tried again. “I don’t want anyone touching my car but me.”

“Too bad.” Rey snatched his wallet out of his hand with shocking disregard for every rule of customer service. What happened to _the customer is always right_ and _don’t steal the patron’s wallet_? She rifled through it, pulling out his black Amex and wrinkling her nose at it. “Of course.”

She turned to the pump before he could form proper words. “Zip code,” she barked out like a drill sergeant giving orders, and, realizing the fight was lost, Ben numbly rattled the numbers off. She slipped the card back into the wallet and tossed it to him, and he was so flustered he nearly dropped it. Was this a hallucination? Who actually _acted_ like this?

He didn’t get back in the car, not wanting to take his eyes off her for a second. He stared as she efficiently pumped his gas, humming tunelessly and rocking her hips like she was having a delightful time. When she was done, she dusted off her hands and turned to him with a blatantly insincere smile. “All done! Maybe next time try not to be such a raging twat about it.”

He gaped, both offended and a little impressed by her moxie. “I’m not going to tip you,” he said, wanting to take at least one small victory from this disturbing interaction.

Rey smirked. “You don’t tip gas station attendants, dipshit.” Then she crinkled her nose, tipped her head to the side, and wriggled her fingers in a mocking little wave. “Enjoy the rest of your trip!”

She marched back towards the station, and Ben could do nothing but stare after her, wondering what the hell had just happened.

#

He finally pulled into Niima two hours later, having stopped on the way to grab an early dinner at a roadside burger joint that had been surprisingly good. Niima was a small town—although not as small as Jakku—and it wasn’t hard to find the Unkar Plutt Auto Repair Shop. Plutt was one of the organizers of the Niima Classic Car Show, and he’d promised Ben a safe place to store his car overnight.

Ben pulled in to the warehouse and noticed that a few other classic cars were also parked there, including a 1937 Ebon Hawk and a sleek 1970 Naboo Starfighter. His attention was snagged by the last in the line, and his heart started racing at the sight of a cream-colored 1953 Corellian Millennium Falcon. His dad owned one just like that, which was how Ben had gotten into cars in the first place.

He shook his head, pushing away memories of his estranged father. Han Solo had been horrified when Ben had accepted the job with Snoke— _instead of taking over my auto restoration business, you’re going to work for the soulless corporation your mother has been fighting for years? Are you fucking serious? — _and they hadn’t spoken since.

A stout man with a broad, pockmarked nose and a downturned mouth shuffled out of the office. “You must be Ben Solo,” he said, extending a meaty hand. Ben shook it, wincing at the feel of sweat and engine oil against his skin. “Nice car. Where you parked it is good, just make sure to have it out of here by eight A.M.”

Plutt extended his hand again, palm up, and Ben sighed as he fished out his wallet. Plutt had demanded a rather exorbitant fee for housing the car overnight, but Ben would rather be safe than sorry. He pulled out a credit card, and Plutt shook his head. “Cash only.”

Ben gritted his teeth. Who in the world still used cash? Luckily, he’d hit an ATM before the trip, and he peeled off four twenties and handed them to Plutt.

The man grunted. “Good. See you tomorrow.” He turned and disappeared back into his office, shutting the door behind him.

The hotel was only a short walk away, but Ben couldn’t resist lingering to get a better look at the Falcon. He traced the lines of it with his eyes, marveling again at how it managed to look simultaneously chunky and elegant. He ran a hand over the hood, then startled as he noticed a pair of jeans-clad legs sticking out from underneath it.

“Oh, sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to interrupt, just wanted to take a closer look…” He trailed off as the person under the car slid out on a mechanic’s creeper. She was wearing a plain white tank instead of the gas station uniform, but there was no mistaking the brown hair and pretty eyes—or the scowl she was leveling at him.

“You!” they said simultaneously.

Rey huffed in exasperation as she pushed to her feet. She ran the back of her hand over her forehead, leaving a streak of oil on her golden skin. “What are you doing here?” Then her gaze fell on the Silencer. “Oh. You’re exhibiting at the show, aren’t you?” She didn’t sound pleased by the fact.

“Yeah. Is this yours?” He boggled at the Falcon, wondering how a woman who worked at a gas station could afford a car, much less one this rare.

“No need to sound so surprised,” she snapped. “Women can drive, too, you know.”

He held up his hands. “Whoa, no need to make it about gender. I was just… surprised.”

She rolled her eyes. “Because I’m a woman.”

“Because you look poor,” he shot back, then immediately winced at his own dickishness.

A crack of laughter escaped her at that. “Oh my God, you really are an asshole, aren’t you?”

His cheeks heated, and he knew he was blushing. That had been a step too far. “Better an asshole than a misogynist, right?”

“Ah, so it’s just me you hate, not all women. Got it.”

His cheeks got even redder, and he rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t hate you. I’m just… yeah. An asshole. An asshole who’s coming off a twelve hour drive and a really shitty work week.” He shifted uncomfortably, knowing he owed her more than that. “I’m sorry, for what it’s worth. About the poor comment. And, uh, I guess about everything else, too.” He grimaced, realizing he’d been the world’s biggest jerk, and this woman didn’t even know his name. “I’m Ben, by the way.”

She tilted her head, chewing her lip as she considered him, and Ben tried not to be distracted by the sight of her white teeth sinking into that plush pink flesh. “Apology accepted, Ben,” she said at last. Then she lifted a finger to point at him sternly. “Begrudgingly, mind you.”

His mouth tugged into a half-smile. He liked her fire and the way she put him in his place. No one ever really did that—Hux’s _My Little Pony_ pranks aside. “I’ll try not to be as much of an asshole in the future,” he said, bowing a little, as if he was some kind of gentleman. Which he wasn’t, obviously.

She grinned, and a pair of charming dimples popped out. “Good. Because for the record, I’m gunning for the Best in Show title tomorrow, and when I win, I don’t want you to be a sore loser.”

Ben hadn’t realized there was a Best in Show title; suddenly, there was nothing he wanted more in the world than to win it. He eyed Rey from head to toe, telling himself he was just sizing up the competition, although his heart rate sped up as his gaze lingered on her narrow waist and small, perky breasts, highlighted to perfection by her stretchy white tank.

“What if I win?” he asked, returning his attention to her face. Was it just him, or had her cheeks pinkened?

She licked her lips. “You won’t.”

Unable to resist the challenge she presented, he stepped forward a pace and was pleased when she didn’t retreat an inch. He could feel the heat rolling off her body, and he was perverted in addition to being an asshole, because his dick was definitely taking interest in these proceedings. He should leave the poor woman alone, but he couldn’t stop himself from leaning in until his lips hovered just over her ear. “Be careful what gauntlets you throw, little girl.”

She shivered, and he pulled away, gratified by the slightly dazed look in her eyes. Then she pressed her lips into a firm line and lifted her chin militantly. “All right, _little boy_ , if that’s the way you want to play… Let’s make a bet.”

He smirked. “I’d love to, sweetheart.”

“Well, _sugar_ ,” she said, serving him back everything he dished out, “how about this: if I win, you let me drive the Silencer. If you win, you can drive the Falcon.”

He grimaced. “No one drives my car but me.”

“That’s why it’s the perfect bet. High stakes for both of us.” She grinned rather wolfishly, and Ben had the brief thought that he might be a little out of his depth with her. “Unless you think I’m thrilled to have some spoiled San Francisco playboy putting his manicured hands on my car.”

Oh, he could definitely think of something he wanted to put his hands on. He lifted one for her perusal, hoping she noticed exactly how big it was. “No manicures here,” he said. “And I’m not a playboy.”

“No?” she asked, her gaze riveted to his fingers. “What are you, then?”

He waited until she returned her attention to his face, then bit his lip and slowly released it. “The man who’s going to kick your ass at the Niima Classic Car Show tomorrow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hoped you liked chapter 1! What do you think is going to happen at the car show? Who's going to win?? How long will it be until I add some smut??!
> 
> For the curious: [Yes, Oregon really does require attendants to pump your gas for you.](https://www.popularmechanics.com/cars/a14539158/why-does-oregon-have-gas-station-attendants-in-the-first-place/) There's a law that allows self-service in certain rural communities, but I'm ignoring that for the purposes of this fic.
> 
> I know nothing about cars, classic or otherwise, so if something is wrong here... ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ I don't know what to tell you. I'm in it for the smut and snark, not the accuracy to detail.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may have noticed the chapter count has gone up. Brevity may be the soul of wit, but verbosity is the soul of smut. Or something? idk, I'm just having too much fun to stop.

Ben parked the Silencer in his designated spot—number 69, which he appreciated with properly juvenile humor—an hour before the show was scheduled to begin. The wide field just outside Niima was already bustling with activity as volunteers guided drivers to their places and food trucks and vendors set up shop at the periphery. There were spaces for 100 entrants divided into ten rows, and roughly half of the drivers were already in place, setting up their displays.

Each contestant had been given a folding table and chair, but they were allowed to bring outside props, as well. The air of pageantry was one thing that set the Niima Classic Car Show apart—while the cars were the main attraction, the meticulous displays and colorful costumes were a bonus.

Originally, Ben hadn’t planned to display anything. The Silencer spoke for itself, all sleek black lines and gleaming chrome. Now that he knew there was a Best in Show prize up for grabs, though, he was ready to give it his all—especially since his main competition was a gorgeous woman with a smart mouth and a stunning figure. He’d spent the previous evening dashing around town, hitting up office supply stores.

He set up an easel with an informational poster he’d designed the previous night, detailing the history and legacy of the Silencer. There was something a little “middle school science fair” about the whole thing, but everyone here was a nerd, anyway. He draped his table in a black tablecloth, disguising the simple plastic surface, then scattered photographs of the Silencer across it. He’d brought his laptop with him on the trip, but the standalone monitor was new, bought the previous evening. He hooked it up to his laptop, then started the presentation he’d crafted late last night.

Ben was very good at making presentations, the _My Little Pony_ debacle aside. This was a mix of photographs and old video footage, some of it featuring the Silencer, but a great deal of it focusing on the events of the year 1968. To truly appreciate a car, you had to appreciate the context of its genesis and use. A car wasn’t just a vehicle—it could be art object, political statement, and time capsule all in one.

1968 had been a hell of a year. The U.S. had been deeply embroiled in Vietnam, and the Tet Offensive, one of the largest military campaigns of the war, had started in January. Students in New York had protested the war, occupying Columbia University, and worker strikes and student protests had spread across the globe as the youth lashed out against systematic disenfranchisement. As the people rose up, several of their icons fell: Robert Kennedy and Martin Luther King, Jr., had both been assassinated. Richard Nixon had taken the White House that fall, and the year had come to a close with Apollo 8 orbiting the moon.

It was a year of unrest and revolution, of both progress and regression, and the Silencer had burst onto the market amid a flurry of controversy. The car had been manufactured by Sienar-Jaemus, an automaker with a controversial side business in weapons production. Sienar-Jaemus cars were a favorite of the wealthy and politically conservative, and the extravagantly expensive, top-of-the-line car had immediately drawn criticism from activists, who protested both the societal wealth disparity it represented and the shady dealings of its manufacturer. Naming it the “Silencer” had been another misstep, as activists had been quick to point out that the powers that be desired nothing less than the utter silencing of their opponents. Hundreds of protestors had marched outside Sienar-Jaemus headquarters to bring attention to the corporation’s involvement in the war industry, waving signs that proclaimed “We will not be Silenced.” When the police had arrived, the peaceful protest had turned into a bloody riot.

Eventually, the negative press became too much, and the Silencer had been pulled out of production a mere six months after its launch. As a result, the car was extremely rare and caused a stir in any show it appeared in.

Ben had always been vocal about his appreciation of the Silencer and the complicated political past it represented, but he’d been shocked when Snoke had gifted him an original model to commemorate the one year anniversary of Ben’s hire. Even given the sorry state the car had been in, it was an extravagant gift, and the CEO had never let Ben forget exactly how much he’d sacrificed on Ben’s behalf.

Now, years of restoration later, the car was finally ready for its debut. Ben stared at it, running his eyes lovingly over his favorite parts: the unusual black upholstery, the elegant curve of the hood culminating in a sharklike grille, the chrome detailing that highlighted the car’s curves and edges, disrupting the all-black effect. This car was worth anything, even putting up with Snoke’s guilt trips and the constant misery of his job.

Shortly after Ben finished setting up, he watched incredulously as a cherry red 1933 Kuat-Entralla Imperial Dual-Windshield Finalizer pulled into spot 68 right next to him. It was absolutely gorgeous, shining like a fresh-dipped candy apple in the sunlight. The man who emerged from it looked like he’d stepped out of a time machine. He wore plaid, high-waisted pants with suspenders, a crisply-pressed white shirt, and a flat cap, and the period-appropriate look was completed by a red bow tie that exactly matched the car.

“Dopheld Mitaka,” the man said, sticking out a hand for Ben to shake, and Ben instantly felt a surge of competitiveness. He gripped the offered hand a little too hard, enjoying the slight wince that crossed Mitaka’s face.

“Ben Solo.”

“That’s a beautiful car.” Mitaka gestured at the Silencer. “Always wanted to get my hands on one of those.”

“Well, you can’t,” Ben said flatly.

Mitaka blinked, looking taken aback by Ben’s blatant hostility. “Uh, okay. I’d better get set up. Good luck today!”

Ben seethed as the man went about setting up not just one, but _two_ informational posters. His tablecloth was pieced together from reproductions of actual 1933 newspapers, and Mitaka anchored it with die-cast reproductions of the Finalizer. He completed the display with a line of glass Coke bottles and multiple plates of what looked like homemade cookies. Was this motherfucker trying to bribe people into voting for him?

He was still glowering at Mitaka when the rumble of an engine announced the arrival of contestant number 70. Ben turned and was struck with a bolt of pleasure when he recognized the cream-colored Millennium Falcon backing into the space. Having Rey next to him meant he could needle her and flirt with her all day long.

Then the door opened, and Rey emerged. Ben gulped. Her chestnut hair was styled in glossy waves like some kind of pin-up girl, and her lips were painted scarlet. She looked gorgeous.

She smiled at him as she sauntered around the car, and when Ben got a glimpse of her outfit, he realized he was utterly fucked. Her dress was red with white polka dots, with a sweetheart neckline and a flaring skirt that hit just below the knees. It was sleeveless, highlighting gorgeously tanned shoulders, and her impossibly narrow waist was hugged by a black sash that culminated in a jaunty bow over her left hip.

She looked sweet, sassy, and downright edible.

Rey smirked as he gaped at her. She gave a little twirl, revealing a hint of fluffy white petticoats… and drawing his eyes to her long legs and a pair of black heels with ankle straps that made him weak in the knees. “Like it?” she asked, lifting a hand to her hair and primping.

He swallowed hard. He meant to say something clever, but all that came out was a garbled sound.

“Guess that’s a yes.” She winked at him as she opened the passenger side door, bending over to retrieve a box of decorations for her booth. Ben couldn’t see anything illicit with that fluffy skirt in the way, but the mere sight of her bending at the waist made his cock stiffen.

How was he going to survive an entire day next to this infuriating, mind-numbingly attractive woman?

She set up efficiently, whipping out a red-and-white checkered tablecloth, which she promptly covered with piles of baked goods. Was there some sort of unwritten rule that entrants had to wear period costume and bring dessert? Ben felt a little foolish in his black slacks and button-up, and he could only hope that the informative nature of his display would make up for the lack of food.

Next, Rey set up a miniature jukebox at one end of the table and started playing cheerful 50s music. She filled the empty space with photographs of the Millennium Falcon, although interestingly, they were all of the restoration process. His attention was instantly snagged by a shot of her in mechanic’s coveralls, a cheeky grin on her dirt-streaked face and a wrench in one hand. There was something bizarrely sexy about it.

“Hey, big guy,” Rey said, batting her lashes at him in a way that made him want to swoon. “Do you think you can help me get a cooler out of the trunk?”

His first instinct was to fling himself at her feet and say _anything you need, so long as you call me ‘big guy’ again_ , but instead he forced himself to cross his arms and raise a skeptical eyebrow. “Trying to sabotage the competition by making me throw out my back?”

She looked him up and down, lingering on his shoulders, his chest, and… wait, was she staring at his package? “A big, strong man like you?” she asked in a sultry voice. “I doubt anything would make you throw out your back.”

There was a double-entendre in the words, because there was more than one way she could try to throw out his back, and Ben was willing to attempt all of them. When Rey’s lips twitched, he knew she was well aware of what she’d implied.

“Might as well try, though,” Ben said, easing closer to her. “Anything for victory.”

Her tongue darted out, dabbing at the corner of her red-stained mouth. “I do like to win.”

Ben was now fully erect. At this rate, his brain would die from lack of blood flow before noon, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He couldn’t stop staring at her—the cherry lips and gleaming curls, the golden skin and bright hazel eyes. She was quite possibly the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

“So?” she asked, tilting her head towards the Falcon. “Can you help?”

“Oh.” Ben snapped back to awareness. “Yeah.” He rolled up his sleeves, enjoying the way her gaze fixed on his muscled forearms.

The cooler really wasn’t that heavy, but he made a show of it anyway, refusing her help as he settled it into place beside her table. “What’s in here, anyway?” he asked.

Rey grinned. “You’ll see.”

Ben watched in amazement as she pulled out a tub of vanilla ice cream and a carton of milk, then produced a blender, a box full of stemmed diner-style glasses, and some chocolate powder from under the table. When the glasses were filled with milkshakes, she adorned each one with whipped cream and a cherry.

“Hoping to buy votes with sugar?” Ben asked. He had to admit they did look delicious.

Rey winked. “You know it. Hey, watch this.” She tossed a cherry in her mouth, and her jaw worked for a few moments before she stuck out her tongue, revealing a perfectly knotted stem.

Ben was absolutely, one-hundred percent fucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: Rey's POV! She sure is enjoying tormenting Ben... And yes, the smut is coming soon!
> 
> As a reminder, I know nothing about cars and have never been to a car show. Any inaccuracies stem from profound ignorance and will most likely not be rectified by the author.
> 
>  
> 
> [Rey's dress.](https://www.dressystar.com/media/catalog/product/cache/1/image/600x805.97014925373/9df78eab33525d08d6e5fb8d27136e95/6/6/66000041-1.jpg)  
> [Rey's shoes.](https://www.macys.com/shop/product/giani-bernini-velmah-memory-foam-mary-jane-pumps-created-for-macys)  
> [The inspiration for Mitaka's car (the 1933 Chrysler CL Imperial Dual-Windshield Phaeton).](https://cdn.thegentlemansjournal.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/07/chrysler-1-1296x864-c-center.jpg)


	3. Chapter 3

Rey was having the time of her life.

She was finally displaying the Millennium Falcon at a car show, her frantic hunt through Goodwill had turned up a pin up dress that made her feel downright sexy, and the day was the perfect temperature for enjoying a delicious milkshake.

And Ben Solo, the outrageous asshole who had become her nemesis in a shockingly short amount of time, was losing their battle of wills. Rey had no compunctions about playing dirty, and she’d noticed the way he’d looked at her in Plutt’s garage the previous night. He’d looked _hungry_ in a purely masculine way that had made her shiver.

Just because he was tall, built, and ridiculously hot didn’t mean she was willing to let him defeat her, either in this competition or in their game of snarky banter. Besides, he hadn’t been playing fair, either—at Plutt’s, he’d whispered sexily in her ear in a blatant attempt at intimidation, and she just knew he’d shown her his massive hand as a strategic maneuver, as if inviting her to notice the length of his fingers.

They were very long. Strong-looking, too. Probably incredibly dextrous.

All of which to say: Rey had woken up this morning hot, bothered, and determined to knock Ben Solo’s world off its axis.

She would have dressed up for the car show anyway, but she confessed to an unnecessary sway in her hips for his benefit. That, combined with a steady stream of winks and flirtatious comments, had rendered him nearly inarticulate. Her stunt with the cherry stem had been the greatest victory of all—as Rey had pulled it out of her mouth, she’d taken a sadistic amount of joy from the sight of him desperately attempting to conceal a boner.

He might be cocky, but Mr. San Francisco has a weakness for pretty girls who talked back to him.

It was oddly refreshing. Rey had dated before, but her smart mouth and unbridled aggression when challenged had put off more than one suitor. She was foul-mouthed, assertive, and disinclined to tolerate masculine bullshit, and funnily enough, men tended to be sensitive about their bullshit. They wanted soft, sweet domestic goddesses, not angry, scrappy mechanics.

If Ben Solo liked her sass… why not use that weakness against him?

The Niima Classic Car Show began soon after she’d finished filling milkshake glasses. It had taken a concerning amount of her under-the-table weekly payment from Plutt, but she’d purchased enough ice cream and milk to supply the public with milkshakes all damn day.

Best in Show didn’t just come with a trophy, after all. There was a cash prize involved—one that would help her finally leave Jakku to start a new life. A better life.

The first waves of people were what she would expect—the elderly and the extremely punctual. At one end of the field, a mediocre band formed of teenagers launched into an overly aggressive rock song, considering the demographics of the 10 AM crowd, but Rey appreciated their enthusiasm. She smiled as she handed out milkshakes and informed curious senior citizens about her car and the work she’d done to restore it.

Ben was receiving a fair amount of attention, too, although his visitors seemed mostly comprised of the kind of men who memorized statistics about World War II. From what she could overhear, he was holding his own, answering SAT-level inquiries with patient, detailed responses.

Rey had never been overly interested in history, but in the lulls between milkshake enthusiasts, she found herself begrudgingly fascinated by his scholarly, yet accessible speeches.

“Eavesdropping?” he asked, sliding her a smug look as a flushed octogenarian practically skipped away from his booth following a heated discussion of Vietnam in the context of U.S. military action in the 20th century.

“Thirsty?” she asked in return, wrapping her lips around her milkshake straw and sucking enthusiastically.

When his cheeks pinkened, she knew she’d won.

They’d both propped their hoods open at the beginning of the show, and Rey marveled at the gleaming interior of the Silencer. The engine of the Falcon was equally pristine, but there was something intoxicating about seeing another well-maintained car. This entire festival was full of relics that had been scrupulously restored, and it was a near-religious experience compared to her encounters with the heaps of scrap at Plutt’s. The work that happened in the garage was utilitarian. This was…

This was art.

A guest asked to hear how the Falcon sounded, and Rey obliged happily, hopping in before revving the engine several times. A small crowd gathered, and when Rey emerged from the vehicle, the assembled watchers burst into applause. It was maybe the most validation Rey had ever gotten, and she couldn’t stop smiling.

That was, until her nemesis spoke up.

“Who wants to hear a _real_ engine purr?”

That quickly, her adoring fans abandoned her for the Silencer, and Rey was left sulking and, yes, begrudgingly admitting that the Silencer’s low rumble sounded heavenly.

“Ass,” she said under her breath once the crowd had dispersed.

“I’m so glad you noticed,” he responded, planting his fists on his display table and leaning over slightly, arching his back as if he was stretching. Rey knew better, though. The angle displayed the taut curves of his backside, and she was as enraptured as she was irritated.

“Careful what gauntlets you throw,” she cautioned him under her breath, repeating his taunt from the previous night.

His hot gaze made her catch her breath. “Don’t worry, princess, I know exactly what I’m doing.”

Rey’s belly clenched, and her pussy pulsed with a hot wave of arousal. The battle lines had been drawn, and Rey’s innate competitiveness rose to the fore, demanding she take drastic action.

With a sweet smile, she dragged her table over until it abutted his at the corner between his space and hers.

“What are you doing?” he asked, eyeing the new arrangement suspiciously.

“You’ll find out.” Rey plunked into her seat, then proceeded to ignore Ben for the next hour.

She only struck when Amilyn Holdo, the strange, lavender-haired mayor of Niima, approached Ben’s display. The mayor was probably already high, but she loved classic cars as much as she loved weed. “Tell me about her,” the mayor said, peering with red-eyed interest at the Silencer.

“The 1968 Sienar-Jaemus Silencer is…”

Rey ignored the spiel she’d heard hundreds of times already that morning. She toed off her right shoe, then subtly scooted her chair closer to Ben. She pretended to be absorbed in her milkshake as she extended her leg to brush a toe over his calf.

Ben jumped hard enough to rattle the laptop and monitor. “Sorry,” he told Mayor Holdo. “Leg cramp.”

Rey hid a smile around her straw, waiting a while before she grazed her foot over his leg again. This time he was ready, the leaping muscle in his jaw the only sign that he’d noticed her subtle touch.

Well, that wouldn’t do. Rey eased her foot up, passing his knee and sliding up his thigh, the long tablecloth obscuring her actions. She’d always been flexible, so extending her leg flat to explore his lap wasn’t a problem. Ben’s hands fisted on the table, and he trailed off in the middle of a sentence about Sienar-Jaemus’s shady dealings. She’d bet her weekly salary from Plutt that Ben was hard right now.

Sure enough, when she coasted one bare foot over the crotch of his trousers, she encountered a _sizeable_ erection. Her mouth dropped open around her straw, and a thrill shot through her at the feel of him beneath her toes. _Holy shit_. That thing would split her in half.

The thought didn’t alarm Rey as much as it should have. She squirmed in her chair, growing even wetter at the thought of him plunging his massive dick inside her.

Ben’s hand dropped to her ankle, but he didn’t remove it from his lap. He just held her in place, her foot resting against his cock. Rey waited breathlessly to see what he would do.

He nudged against her, rocking his hips just enough to rub his erection over the sensitive bottom of her foot.

Rey choked on a whimper, then sucked in a massive mouthful of milkshake to cover it up—which promptly led to a coughing fit.

“Everything all right?” Ben asked innocently.

“Fine,” she gasped. _She_ was tormenting _him — _where did he get off trying to turn the tables?

 _He can get off anywhere he likes_ , her hindbrain argued.

“Miss Johnson,” the mayor said, and Rey nearly choked again. “Tell me about your car.”

“Of course.” Rey’s voice sounded distant even to her own ears. Ben hadn’t let go of her foot, and he was currently alternating between massaging it and rubbing his dick against it. He worked out the ache from her high heels with magic fingers, and she’d always been susceptible to a good foot rub, but the added stimulation of his hard cock nudging against her was going to send her through the metaphorical roof. This… foot job?... was kinky in a weird way that Rey was apparently one-hundred percent into.

Shit. Maybe she’d miscalculated with this strategy.

Rey had no idea what she told Mayor Holdo about the Falcon, but since the mayor was high as a kite, she probably wouldn’t remember, anyway. Holdo’s eyes kept drifting longingly to the plate of cookies and lemon bars, so Rey wrapped up her talk and nudged the plate towards the woman. “Please, take as many as you like.”

As nearly a dozen baked goods vanished into the mayor’s voluminous purse, Rey decided maybe she shouldn’t have made such an open-ended offer, but then Ben dug his thumbs into the sensitive arch of her foot, and Rey couldn’t focus on anything but holding back a moan.

When the mayor drifted away, Ben released her foot. Rey brought it back to her side of their conjoined tables, breathing heavily. Sweat gathered at her hairline, and a different kind of moisture pooled between her legs.

“We’re allowed to leave these spots for lunch, right?” Ben asked abruptly. He was staring at her, his dark eyes burning with leashed intensity.

Rey swallowed hard, then nodded. “We just have to put a sign up.”

“Do you have one?”

She pulled the cheerful “Out to lunch!” sign out of her bag to show him. Ben nodded decisively. “Good,” he said in that deep, sinful voice. “Put it up between our tables. We’re going to go eat—” his eyes flicked down to her lap— “lunch.”

Rey felt like she’d been hypnotized as she wordlessly followed his command, setting up the sign at the intersection between their two tables and placing the few remaining milkshakes in the cooler. She’d need to make more after lunch for the afternoon crowd.

When she turned to look at Ben, she caught him tucking his erection inside his waistband. Her eyes widened at the sight of the fleshy cap poking up towards his navel before Ben pulled his untucked shirt down to cover it. He met her gaze, shrugging unrepentantly. “It’s nothing you won’t see more of soon.”

His cockiness was _breathtaking_. And oh my God, Rey was in so much trouble, because she liked it. Really, really liked it. Her nemesis was an arrogant asshole with a massive penis and big, strong hands, and Rey was about to eat a highly euphemistic lunch with him. She was going to absolutely _devour_ his highly euphemistic lunch, if she had her way.

He stood and held out his hand, and once she’d slipped her heel back on, she took it, letting him guide her away from their displays. Rather than letting her hand go, he tucked it into the crook of his elbow like some kind of old-timey gentleman—although of course, he was anything but. Rey wasn’t a lady, either, and the illicit thrill of the carnal intentions lurking beneath their proper exteriors turned her on even harder.

He guided her toward the line of food trucks, and for a moment, Rey wondered if she’d misread the signs—although the erection had seemed pretty blatant—and he really did just want to eat lunch. Thankfully, he kept walking, guiding her into the tangled forest that abutted the field. Rey was grateful that her heels were chunky, rather than spike-thin, but she still struggled to walk on the uneven terrain. Noticing her difficulty, Ben hefted her into his arms in a froth of polka dots and petticoats, ignoring her laughing protestations as he strode deeper into the trees.

He was strong. Rey shivered as she felt the hard muscles of his arms pressing into her back and cradling her knees. She laced her hands around his neck, wondering how she had gone from hating this man’s guts to wanting him inside her in less than a day.

Oh, who was she kidding. She’d wanted him inside her even during their first encounter at the gas station, when he’d been a supreme ass to her. He’d been tall and broody and entirely lickable, and even his dickishness had been appealing. Rey had a lot of rough edges herself, and it was rare that a man dared to go toe-to-toe with her.

Once they were out of sight of the crowds, Ben lowered her to her feet, keeping her body pressed against his so she had to slide down his muscled front. She shivered. Oh, he was good. She didn’t remove her arms from around his neck, and she toyed with the hair at the back of his neck as she smirked up at him. “What now, Mr. San Francisco?”

“Now,” he said, lifting his hands to her wrists, “I take what I’ve been wanting since the moment I first saw you.”

The words sent a thrill rocketing through her. She opened her mouth to reply, but that quickly, his lips were on hers, hot and hungry. He crowded into her, forcing her to retreat until her back hit a tree. He lifted her arms above her head, pinning her against the bark as his mouth ravaged hers.

Rey moaned and lifted a leg to wrap around his hips, tugging him closer. She was desperate for him, more turned on than she’d ever been in her life, and a stuttered gasp left her throat as he rocked his hard erection against her. It was good, but not enough—her petticoats were getting in the way. She tried to pull away to remedy the issue, but he kept her pinned.

“My dress,” she panted against his mouth. “Need to feel you.”

He transferred her wrists to one hand, then reached between them to tug her skirts up around her waist. His fingers skated over her drenched cotton knickers, and she bucked against the light touch. “More,” she said, half-plea, half-command. “Touch me.”

“Gladly.” He inserted his fingers beneath the cotton, curving them around her until he was cupping her entire pussy in his palm. “Fuck, you’re wet.”

“Have been most of the morning,” she said, rocking against him. His fingers dipped briefly into her drenched pussy, then slid forward to trace her clitoris.

“I’ve been hard since I saw you in that dress,” he said as he kissed down her throat. She tilted her head to give him better access, jerking and crying out when he bit down on the spot between her neck and shoulder at the same moment he sheathed two fingers inside her. “Taunting me with your legs and your lipstick and that fucking cherry stem…”

She grinned, rolling her body so her breasts brushed against his front as his fingers slid in and out of her. “You liked that?”

“I loved it, you fucking tease.”

She moaned at the coarse words, then cried out as he curled his fingers inside her, instantly finding the spot that drove her insane. “Tell me more,” she said, panting and grinding against him. She needed his devil’s voice in her ear, detailing his every filthy thought.

“You’re a dirty fucking girl, Rey.” He crooked his fingers again, rubbing her clit with the heel of his palm. “You’ve been practically begging for my cock all morning. Tell me: how much do you want it, baby girl?”

“So much,” she moaned. “I need to feel it in me. Need you to split me open.”

He swore, and his fingers slid deeper as his hips bucked uncontrollably. “Jesus, Rey. You’ve been driving me insane. Your sweet little tits and your legs and this fucking dress. I want to fuck you so hard you forget your own name. I want you to feel me for _weeks_.”

“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God…” Rey was reduced to frantic babbling, her pussy already starting to quiver around his fingers. No one had ever talked to her like this before. “Ben, please!”

He panted against her ear. “I was going to tease you a bit, you know. Take you out here and bring you up the way you brought me up with your foot, then deny you an orgasm and force you to spend all afternoon thinking about it.”

“No,” she moaned. “Ben, please, I need it—”

“Shh,” he soothed. “I know, baby girl.” He pulled back, releasing her wrists and sliding his fingers out of her with a lewd, slick sound. She whimpered as he sucked them clean, his eyes boring into hers as his tongue darted over his wet fingers. Then he fumbled in his back pocket, pulling out his wallet, and thank _God_ he had a condom. He unbuckled his belt, unzipped his slacks, and dropped his trousers and underwear to his knees, revealing a mouthwatering erection. Rey only had a few moments to gawp at it before he rolled the condom over that thick length.

He lifted her in his arms, and Rey wrapped her legs around him, tugging her skirts out of the way impatiently. He slammed her against the trunk, the arm he’d wrapped around her protecting her from most of the impact.

Ben held her gaze. “Later, I’m going to take my time with you. I’m going to bend you over the hood of your car and lick your pretty little cunt until you come for me again and again, and then I’m going to fuck you long and slow. I’m going to be _thorough_ , Rey.”

She whimpered, rocking her hips against him frantically.

“That’s later, though.” Ben tugged the crotch of her knickers aside and lined himself up with her entrance. “Right now, I’m going to fuck you fast and hard.” The hand that wasn’t braced against her back moved to cup her ass, holding her steady for what was sure to be the fuck of Rey’s life.

“Yes,” she said, and then Ben was pushing inside her. The breath whooshed out of her as he sank all the way in. He felt even bigger than he looked, and that was saying something. Her head tipped back against the tree, and she closed her eyes, absorbing the sensation of him stretching her wide and filling her to the brim.

“Look at me while I fuck you,” he ordered her, and Rey obeyed him automatically. His pupils were blown wide, only a small ring of brown visible around the edges. He gritted his teeth as he pumped up into her, snapping his hips in deep thrusts that were almost too much to take.

Rey reveled in that sharp edge between “just enough” and “too much.” She felt out of control and uninhibited, totally wild in a way she never got to be. The aggression that had powered her through a lifetime of deprivation and disappointment had finally found a pleasurable outlet, and she let herself go, exulting in the freedom.

She sank her nails into his shoulders, scrabbling for purchase against the smooth fabric, then fisted one hand in his hair. She pulled hard on the soft locks, gasping when her violence earned her a particularly hard slam of his hips.

“God, yes,” he said, panting as he worked her even faster. “It feels like your tight little pussy was made for me.”

She groaned and tugged his hair again. “More like your thick cock was made for me.”

His grin was almost feral. “No reason it can’t be both.”

He pounded up into her, setting an unrelenting pace, and she took each heavy thrust joyfully, clutching him hard as the pleasure spiraled up and up.

“Touch your clit,” he commanded as his thrusts grew jerky. “Want you to come on my cock.”

She obliged, rubbing hard circles as he slammed into her. Pleasure tightened at that sensitive spot, intensified by the thick slide of him inside her, and then the tension exploded into an all-consuming release. Rey cried out as waves of bliss shivered over her body.

Ben swore and buried his face in her neck as he thrust a few final times, then held, his body trembling.

When he lowered her back to her feet, Rey couldn’t quite manage to stand. She leaned on him heavily, watching with drowsy contentment as he removed the condom and knotted it, slipping it into his pocket to dispose of later. Even softening, his cock was impressive, and she bade a sad farewell to it as he pulled up his underwear and slacks.

He wrapped his arms around her, and Rey sank into his chest, marveling at how easy this felt. She didn’t accept touch easily, but with him, it seemed natural. He kissed the top of her head, then rested his cheek on her hair.

“That was amazing,” he said. “You’re amazing, Rey.”

She giggled, feeling high as a kite from the endorphins. “You aren’t so bad yourself.”

He grinned down at her. “What a compliment. I guess I’ll need to try harder to impress you next time.”

If he tried any harder to impress her, Rey was a dead woman. “I’ll put you on an improvement plan,” she said, unable to resist teasing him. “We’ll get you there eventually.”

He laughed and smacked her ass through her skirts. “Brat. Now come on, let’s get some actual lunch. If I’m going to do this to you again today—and I _will_ , several times—I need to keep up my strength.”

Rey couldn’t stop smiling as he led her out of the woods, his big hands guiding her over the rough terrain. He stopped periodically to nibble at her ear or drop gentle kisses on her lips, and when they finally emerged into the afternoon sun and headed hand-in-hand for the food trucks, Rey had the disconcerting thought that she could get used to this.

Shit. She was in so much trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yup, the chapter count went up again. There wasn't supposed to be a sex scene here, but things got a little out of hand, postponing the meager amount of plot I've managed to scrape together.
> 
> #sorrynotsorry
> 
> Once again, I know nothing about cars or car shows. But let's be honest, that's not why we're really here...


	4. Chapter 4

Ben couldn’t stop staring at Rey.

It wasn’t just that she was gorgeous—which she obviously was. It wasn’t just because he’d been balls-deep in her a mere thirty minutes before—which he definitely had, praise every deity he’d never believed in. It wasn’t even because she was going to _town_ on her burrito like a rabid wolf and spraying stray bits of cheese and beans all over her display table—which really shouldn’t have been sexy, but weirdly was.

_I bet she’s that ravenous about sucking cock, too._

No, illicit thoughts aside, Ben was staring because he was pretty sure he’d finally met the perfect woman, and as bad luck would have it, she was a mechanic and part-time gas station attendant who lived in the middle of fucking nowhere, Oregon.

He was due in San Francisco for work tomorrow morning, which meant getting on the road by early evening if he wanted to grab even a few hours of sleep. In the period of time he would henceforth dub B.R.—Before Rey—that hadn’t been an issue. The Niima Classic Car Show ran from 10 AM to 3 PM, when the winner of Best in Show was announced. Ben had planned to hop in the Silencer immediately afterwards and gun it straight to San Francisco.

Now, though, all he could think about was staying here as long as possible. Kissing her, touching her, fucking her, then repeating the sequence again and again until the feel of him was permanently embedded in her skin.

Ben Solo was completely fucking gone on her, and it was simultaneously thrilling and terrifying.

“What are you staring at?” she demanded through a full mouth, her cheeks bulging like the world’s sexiest chipmunk.

“Uh… you?” It was the best he could come up with, considering the alternate answers threatening to burst from his lips: _I’m looking at the most amazing woman in the world. I’m looking at the best fuck of my life. I’m looking at my future._

That last thought was way too intense, even for him, but there it was, planting a flag in his brain like the first explorer to ever summit Everest.

Ben Solo didn’t _do_ relationships. He didn’t do feelings, either. He was a grumpy asshole with family baggage and a job that consumed his waking hours to the point where, prior to this weekend, he honestly couldn’t remember the last time he’d done something for fun. Yet now, looking at Rey and the photos showing her work on the Falcon and even that poor, mangled burrito, Ben wanted to make a proper attempt at both feelings and a relationship.

_Jesus_. He buried his head in his arms, thunking his forehead against his display table in an attempt to shake some sense loose. Even if he could figure out how to have a relationship with Rey from more than 500 miles away, there was no chance she’d want one with him. He was a dickhead who happened to have a nice dick, and that was it.

“Something on your mind?” she asked, and Ben looked up just in time to see her lips—shining crimson with newly applied lipstick after their encounter in the woods—wrap around the straw of her milkshake. Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked, and that fast, Ben was hard again.

“No,” he managed to say. He cleared his throat and cast about for a diversion. “How did you get your hands on a Millennium Falcon, anyway?”

The smile that bloomed on her face was breathtaking, and she got a dreamy look in her eyes, the way she always did when she talked about her car. “It’s a really strange story,” she said. “Almost like a fairy tale.”

_She_ seemed straight out of a fairy tale, but rather than spouting that particular bit of sentimental nonsense, Ben just grunted in what he hoped was a suitably manly fashion.

“I’ve always loved cars,” Rey continued. “I’ve been on online forums dedicated to classic cars for years, and I made some friends there. People who didn’t care about my gender or how old I was and just appreciated my opinions.”

Ben felt briefly, bizarrely jealous of her forum buddies, who had gotten to experience her passion for cars long before Ben had even realized she existed. They’d spoken to her for _years_ , and if none of them cared about her gender and age, he would eat his hat. Not that he had a hat. He cast a glance at the competitor to his right, who was currently charming several members of the rotary club. Mitaka. He would eat Mitaka’s hat.

“I became really good friends with this older guy.” At Ben’s alarmed look, Rey laughed. “No, it’s nothing like that. He’s happily married.”

“Hm.” In Ben’s experience, even “happily” married men—like Hux and Snoke—tended to stray. It disgusted him, the way so much of the watercooler talk did at Snoke Industries, but he knew better than to say anything.

If Ben was ever fortunate enough to marry someone, he would be faithful to her forever. He told himself it was the least he could do if someone was willing to put up with him, but the truth was that Ben was a closet romantic. He liked the idea of fidelity—of two people taking on the world together as partners.

“Anyway,” Rey said, “he has a fraught relationship with his son. We talked about it a bit, and I gave him some advice about how to reach out, but I don’t think it ever worked. My friend was saving the Falcon for his son, but apparently the son made it clear he wanted nothing to do with cars or the family, and it was so heartbreaking that my friend decided to give the car to someone else. Someone young who would appreciate it.”

“Wow.” Ben shifted uncomfortably, thinking about his own strained relationship with his father. As far as he knew, Han Solo had never planned to give Ben one of his precious cars, but he could see something messy like that happening after their falling out. “So he gave it to you? Just like that?”

Rey beamed. “He did. He’d already tried to give me some money to get out of Jakku or go to university, and I said no to that, but I didn’t turn down the car. How could I?”

Ben studied her Millennium Falcon. It might be the same make, model, and color as his dad’s car, but the similarities stopped there. It was evident just looking at the Falcon that Rey had poured her entire heart into restoring it, whereas Han’s Falcon was a piece of junk, kept mainly from nostalgia but tucked away in a corner of the garage, never seeing sunlight or the open road. Still, Ben had loved that vehicle with all his heart—maybe because it was another neglected Solo child. “He was right to give it to you,” Ben said at last. “You’ve restored her beautifully.”

The expression Rey turned on her vehicle was so full of adoration that Ben was briefly jealous. What would it take for her to look at him like that?

“I’m very lucky,” she said softly.

Was she, though? He considered what he knew of her—her work as a mechanic and at the gas station, and now this revelation that a stranger on the internet had tried to pay for her to go to college or leave Jakku. Did Rey have a family? Any sort of support system? “Why didn’t you take his money?”

Rey sighed, and her golden shoulders slumped a little. “I don’t like being beholden to people,” she confessed. “Something like the car—he would have given it away, anyway, so it wasn’t like I was taking it from him. But in my experience, money always comes with strings, and I knew I’d never be able to pay him back.”

“That’s cynical.” Ben privately agreed with her assessment, but he was a jaded asshole probably a decade older than her. She was too young to be that suspicious of other people.

“Well, that’s me. I grew up in foster care in England, you know, and that doesn’t exactly teach you to trust others.”

“I imagine not.” It upset him to imagine exactly how she might have learned such mistrust. Rey deserved nothing but kindness. “How did you end up here?”

She played with the straw of her milkshake, looking pensive. “I finally got adopted by a nice couple in my early teens—a British man and an American woman. It was good for a few years, but then he died of lung cancer, and Maz and I moved back to America. We scraped by for a few years, but then Maz got diagnosed with ovarian cancer, and that was that.” She bit her lip. “I suppose being orphaned twice is some sort of accomplishment.”

He scooted his chair closer, then covered her hand with his. “I’m sorry, Rey.”

She turned her hand over to lace their fingers together. “It is what it is. And it’s made me tough, you know. Everything I have I’ve earned myself. Maybe I’ll always be alone, but no one can take that away from me.”

His chest ached for her. “You’re not alone,” he said, squeezing her hand more tightly. He’d meant the words as simple comfort, but as they left his lips, they gained weight and significance. Like he had just made her a promise.

Her smile wobbled as she looked at him with those clear hazel eyes. “Neither are you.”

His lips parted, and he couldn’t think of anything to say in response. His head felt stuffed with cotton, his ears ringing with those three simple words. Ben’s isolation had seemed like the natural way of things, his loneliness inevitable. As such, he’d stopped hoping for a real connection years ago, choosing instead to focus on his career, even though it brought him little joy. Happiness was for other people, not Ben Solo. He would settle for money and success.

Now, though, a long-suppressed desire came roaring to the forefront. He wanted to belong to someone. He wanted to belong to _her_.

Rey shook her head and chuckled a little, and the little motion broke the spell between them. “Anyway, that’s why I don’t want anyone’s money. I want to make my own way in the world. Maybe I can still salvage something out of my life, the same way I restored the Falcon.”

Her eyes rested on the car again, and Ben was desperate to hear more about her life and upbringing, but he could sense that she felt a little uncomfortable. Instead, he focused on their common ground. “What did you do to her?”

“Oh, everything.” Rey laughed. “She was in sorry shape when I got her. Someone had even finger-painted the interior of one of the doors green, believe it or not. I think his kid got into it, because there was this tiny handprint…”

Whatever Rey said after that was lost in a rush of white noise. Ben’s stomach dropped, and something like panic prickled over his skin like an army of centipedes. “No,” he whispered.

Rey frowned at him. “What?”

He released her hand and shot to his feet. His pulse thundered in his ears as he approached the Falcon and wrenched the right rear door open. The handprint wasn’t there anymore, of course, but he knew exactly where it had been. He stared at the spot, his gut churning as a devastating sense of familiarity settled over him.

He’d been eight years old, and the Falcon had been his favorite hiding spot—a secret space to retreat to when the world grew too overwhelming. He’d thought the paint would make it look nicer, but Han had been furious. Ben remembered crying hysterically as his parents shouted at each other. It was only a day later, when Han had finally cooled down, that he’d seemed to find humor in it. “I guess it’s yours now, kid,” Han had said. “You marked it.”

“What the fuck, Ben?” Rey’s hand was on his forearm, her nails digging in.

He shook his head, his eyes burning as he stared at that damn spot that had once been eight-year-old Ben’s greatest shame. The door looked like new, but the past hadn’t been erased, just covered over. The bad moments brushed under the rug, just the way Han and Leia had always liked it. “I guess it wasn’t mine, after all,” he whispered.

“Ben? What are you talking about?”

Just then, a familiar voice sounded behind them, the gruff cadence cutting through the noise of the crowd. “Hey, kid.”

Rey gasped, and then her hand was gone, and she was running back towards the display table. “Han!”

Ben slowly turned around, already knowing what he would see. Rey had her arms wrapped around Han Solo’s neck, and she was laughing and crying as she hugged him, and he was hugging her back with a huge grin, as if she were his own child.

No, not like his own child. Ben had never gotten hugs like that, after all. Han was hugging Rey like the child he wished he’d had. The child he would have chosen.

The child he _had_ chosen.

Ben’s heart felt like it was splintering apart, so he did the only thing he could and covered up his vulnerabilities with his usual uncomfortable armor. He sank his hands into his pockets and let his lips tilt with a hint of cynicism as he strolled over to them. “Well, well,” he drawled, low and mean. “What a delightful surprise.”

Han pulled back from Rey, shock painted across his weathered face. “Ben?”

Rey looked between them, her brow furrowed. “You two know each other?”

“You could say that.” Ben stopped a few feet away. “I didn’t expect to see you here… Dad.”

#

Ben knew Rey was gaping at him, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Han. His father’s face looked thinner than he remembered, his mouth bracketed with deep lines. Ben couldn’t decipher the intense emotion on the older man’s face, but that was nothing new.

“What are you doing here?” Han asked at last.

Ben laughed harshly; he couldn’t help himself. “Nice to see you, too. It’s only been, what, three years since we last spoke? Glad to see it didn’t take you long to replace me.”

Rey flinched at that and stepped away from both of them. “You’re… He’s your son?” she asked Han.

“What are you doing here, Ben?” Han repeated, ignoring the question. “Why are you with Rey?”

Ben cocked a sardonic brow. “Afraid I’ll corrupt her with my toxic influence? As it turns out, not everything I do is to spite you. I’m exhibiting.”

Han’s gaze finally broke away from Ben and trailed over the Silencer. He raised his brows in appreciation. “That one’s yours?”

Ben kicked himself for feeling even a little gratified by Han’s approval of the car. “Snoke gave it to me. You remember Snoke, right? The reason you stopped talking to me?” He was being snide and petty, he knew it, but his heart felt bruised, and if he didn’t lash out, he was going to break down.

Han scowled. “I remember that you threw your family away to work for that sleazeball.”

“And now you have someone new to hero worship you. Looks like I did you a favor.”

“Stop it!” Rey cried out, stepping between them. “Just… stop. Let’s talk about this.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Ben said. Han looked sick; probably because he had never wanted Rey, his new golden child, to meet the black sheep of the family. “I’m a selfish monster who abandoned the family to work for a corrupt corporation—isn’t that right, Dad?”

“Ben…” Han stepped forward, hand outstretched. “She’s right. Let’s talk about this.”

Ben shook his head, and to his extreme embarrassment, his eyes started watering. He stepped back. “You gave her the Falcon. Remember when I left green handprints all over it, and you said that meant it was mine? Or maybe you don’t remember. You and mom were hardly around for my childhood, after all.”

“Oh my God,” Rey whispered, but the words didn’t seem to be directed towards anyone in particular.

“I was saving it for you,” Han said. His mouth twisted. “I was going to give it to you when you took over the family business, but you made it very clear you had no interest—”

“You never told me you were saving it for me.” A tear spilled over, and Ben wiped it away, mortified by the weakness. “You knew how much I loved that car. How long did it take you to find a complete stranger to pawn it off on? A week? A month?”

“Six months,” Han growled.

Ben shook his head, letting out a bitter laugh. “Is that how long you’re supposed to wait before giving up on your prodigal children?”

“If you hadn’t taken that job with Snoke—”

“I’m not going to apologize for having ambition.”

“If you’d at least called us again after that fight—”

“You didn’t call me, either.”

“It’s been three damn years, Ben!” Han shouted. “Don’t act like I’ve taken something away from you. You made your choice when you picked Snoke.”

His sinuses ached from unshed tears, and Ben couldn’t do this anymore. He couldn’t face his father’s disdain again, couldn’t listen to the litany of his sins, couldn’t tolerate another second under Rey’s horrified stare.

He’d already known she was too good for him. Now she knew it, too.

“Sorry,” he told Rey, not daring to meet her eyes. “Enjoy the rest of the show.”

He turned on his heel and walked away, unsure where he was going, just knowing he had to get out of there before his heart broke entirely.

#

He cried in the woods, not far from where he’d had sex with Rey. It was the only place that offered any privacy, and it didn’t matter that he was getting his shirt wet or that his slacks were covered in mud and leaves. The only thing that mattered was that no one else was around to witness his weakness.

“Fuck,” he gasped, wiping away the tears with the back of his wrist.

When he’d thought about facing Han again, Ben had always imagined that he’d be calm and collected, that he’d know all the right things to say to cut his father down to size. He’d imagined strolling up in his best suit, a walking advertisement for the virtues of the choice he’d made. Han would have looked at him and realized that, despite his disapproval, Ben had made a man out of himself, and a powerful one, at that.

Ben had planned to prove that he didn’t need Han Solo anymore. That he didn’t need _anyone._

He hadn’t anticipated Snoke being exactly as cruel and conniving as his parents had claimed. He hadn’t expected to end up exhausted and jaded, tired of his work but unable to think of a way out. He hadn’t expected the last three years to feel so… empty.

And he certainly hadn’t guessed that when he finally faced Han again, he would cry like a baby.

Han had given Rey the Millennium Falcon. Ben’s childhood hideout had gone to a complete stranger, and even if Rey deserved it, even if she’d taken excellent care of the car, it still hurt. It made sense, though. Faced with the choice of Rey or Ben, who would ever pick Ben?

There was still an hour left in the show, but Ben wasn’t sure he could go out there again, not even to see who won Best in Show. It didn’t matter, anyway. His flirtatious bet with Rey was off, because there wasn’t a chance in hell she would still want to go for a drive with him. Han Solo was a father figure to her; of course she would take his side. Ben was just the prickly asshole who had fucked her against a tree. A fun diversion, but ultimately nothing special.

Footsteps sounded in the leaves behind him, and he groaned, dropping his head into his hands. “Go away, Rey.”

“It’s me.”

He stiffened at the sound of Han’s voice, then scrambled to his feet and turned around, all too aware that he was covered in dirt and that his eyes were red and swollen from crying. “What are you doing here?”

Han winced, then ran a hand through his silver hair. “Rey sent me.”

“Oh.” Stupid to feel disappointed that Han hadn’t decided to come on his own.

“She tore me a new one, you know. After you left.” Han shook his head, his lips curving in a wry smile. “That girl can be terrifying.”

Ben blinked, unsure what to make of this information. “Why was she upset with you?”

“Oh, let’s see…” Han ticked off the reasons on his fingers. “Because I didn’t offer you the Falcon in the first place, because I didn’t call you for three years, because I was rude when I saw you at the show, because I’m an ungrateful man who doesn’t appreciate what a wonderful son I have...” He shrugged. “There was more, but that was the gist of it.”

Ben’s jaw dropped. “She said all that?” Why on Earth would Rey have stood up for him?

“She sure did.” Han sighed heavily. “And she was right.”

Ben felt so disoriented he nearly toppled over. He wouldn’t have been surprised if someone had told him that the magnetic poles had just reversed or that the Earth had begun rotating in the opposite direction. “What?” he asked dumbly.

“I’m a proud man,” Han said. He looked, of all things, embarrassed. Ben couldn’t remember ever seeing his father look embarrassed. “I got angry that you didn’t want the business and that you were working for Snoke, and when you stopped calling, I didn’t want to be the first one to reach out and break the stalemate. It was easier not to do anything. So now here we are, three years later, and I don’t know the first thing about your life.”

Ben had to swallow a few times before he could speak. “You’re not really missing much. My life’s pretty miserable.”

“You still with Snoke?”

Ben stiffened, expecting a flood of criticism, but Han looked curious, not condemning. “Yeah.”

“You like it?”

Ben huffed, the sound not quite amusement. “Not even a little bit. At least I’m rich.”

Han nodded, as if this was about what he’d expected. “Let me tell you something, kid, and I hope you don’t take this as me chewing you out again. Some cages are comfortable, but they’re still cages. What use is money if you’re miserable? If you don’t have a family to spend it on?”

Ben cast him a dry look. “Are you trying to convince me to spend money on you?”

Han smirked. “Not quite, although I’m sure your mother wouldn’t complain. No, I’m talking about the family you make. The one you choose.”

“I don’t have anyone. Not even friends.” Ben swallowed a lump in his throat, reflecting again on how very lonely he was and how awful it was going to be to return to that existence tomorrow. “I didn’t know it would be like this.”

“We all make mistakes.” When Ben shot Han a withering glare, the older man held his hands up placatingly. “Okay, okay, we all make _choices_. And sometimes those choices end up having consequences we didn’t expect. It doesn’t mean you can’t make a different choice.”

Ben sighed. “What would I even do if I left Snoke? It’s too late to find another path.”

“No, it’s not.” Han cocked his head, studying Ben intently. “What do you like doing?”

“I don’t know,” Ben confessed. “Restoring the Silencer is the only thing I’ve enjoyed in years.” Until he’d met Rey.

A long silence fell as they stared at each other. Ben took the opportunity to drink in every last detail of his father’s appearance. It had been so long since they’d been together—he hadn’t even realized how much he’d missed the old man.

“You know,” Han said at last, “I’m planning on retiring at the end of the year. I was going to sell the business, but if you’re interested…”

Ben’s jaw dropped. He stared at his father, hardly daring to believe what he’d just heard. “The last time we spoke, I told you to fuck off and that I didn’t want your garage. Why would you offer it to me again?”

“I believe you called it my ‘stupid, half-rate garage,’” Han said dryly. “If you still feel that way, then I’ll rescind the offer, but I figured I’d give you a chance to change your mind.”

Ben was overwhelmed by the abrupt shift in his reality. His father was standing in front of him, offering him a second chance. Offering him forgiveness. “I don’t deserve it,” he whispered.

Han stepped forward and rested a hand on Ben’s shoulder. “There are plenty of things I don’t deserve that I got, anyway. Your mom, for one. I’ve fucked up countless times, and she always forgives me. She kicks my ass first, but still. Loving someone means realizing that sometimes they’re going to mess up.” He sighed. “You messed up, but so did I. I never should have let the silence go on for so long. I should have reached out to see how you were doing. Maybe you could have left Snoke sooner.”

Ben was crying again, but this time, he didn’t run away. He stared at his father, trying to reconcile the reality he’d built up in his head for the last three years with the truth standing before him. His father loved him. His father was willing to forgive him. “It’s been tearing me apart,” he confessed. “Feeling the need to choose between you and Snoke, between my career and my family. By the time I realized I didn’t want the career anymore, the damage was done.”

“So we’ll start again. You and me and your mom.” Han smirked. “And Rey, I suppose. She seems very taken with you.”

Ben flushed. Surely that was going a little far, even if Rey had just defended him. “She’s way too good for me.”

“That’s why you should lock it down now, before she knows better.”

It was obviously a joke, and Ben laughed accordingly. The tension that had been holding him tight released, and he shuddered, his shoulders drooping. “I’m sorry, Dad.”

“I’m sorry, too.”

And then Han held his arms wide, and Ben walked into the hug like he was a little boy again, and suddenly everything was better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A wild plot appeared! Hope that wasn't too angsty for this fun little AU.
> 
> Why wouldn't Rey realize Ben Solo and Han Solo are related, you ask? Let's just pretend Solo is a super common last name in this universe. Shhhh everything's fine.
> 
> Next chapter we learn who won Best in Show... and then, of course, there will be smut!
> 
> Let me know what you think of this chapter! I love reading your comments.


	5. Chapter 5

Rey waited nervously at her display table, wondering when—and if—the Solo men would return.

She couldn’t believe what had happened. The man who had bickered with her at the gas station and then fucked her against a tree was Han Solo’s son. In retrospect, the shared last name should have raised an eyebrow, but Solo was a common name, and what were the odds her gruff yet down-to-earth internet friend would be related to a snarky, wealthy businessman from San Francisco?

She could see the resemblance now, though. Ben was taller, his features more imposing, but their smirks were similar, and they both had a way of holding themselves that screamed confidence and cockiness.

And goodness, were they shite communicators.

She swore under her breath, mad all over again at Han. What was wrong with him? Ben might be an ass sometimes, and maybe he’d made a poor career choice, but he was Han’s _family_. Loyalty to family was non-negotiable, in Rey’s eyes.

Han hadn’t called his son for _three years_. Sure, Ben hadn’t called his dad, either, and she was going to chastise him for that later, but parents ought to act like the bigger people when it came to their offspring, right?

A group of older ladies in flamboyant purple dresses and wide-brimmed crimson hats approached Ben’s booth, and Rey perked up. The Red Hat Society was an influential voting bloc when it came to community events in Niima. “My co-exhibitor had to duck away for a few moments,” she told them, “but I’d be happy to tell you about the 1968 Sienar-Jaemus Silencer.”

She fumbled her way through Ben’s speech, which she’d grown familiar with over the course of the day. It was, admittedly, interesting. She’d never cared much for Sienar-Jaemus cars, knowing the manufacturer’s legacy when it came to munitions and other tools of war, but Ben’s analysis of the car’s place in history made her think more about classic cars as artifacts of a specific time and place. They weren’t just attractive methods of conveyance; they were political statements written in rubber and steel.

The Red Hat ladies were polite, but they showed far more enthusiasm for Rey’s car. “So nice to see a young lady bucking societal expectations,” one of the ladies said, and even though the classic car world was more gender-inclusive these days, Rey still puffed up in pride.

They moved on to the 1933 Kuat-Entralla Imperial Dual-Windshield Finalizer, where Dopheld Mitaka charmed them with baked goods, pristine manners, and… was he juggling? She shook her head, amused at the lengths to which some competitors would go to gain votes.

Two figures emerged from the woods, and Rey exhaled in relief as she watched the Solo men approach, their heads bent together in conversation. They appeared to have reached a truce. She smiled, then turned her attention back to the teenaged girl who had shyly approached for a milkshake and then lingered to ask insightful questions about auto restoration.

“My dad thinks I should go to college,” the girl said softly, “but I really want to go to an automotive school. I want to own my own garage someday.”

“I want to own a garage someday, too,” Rey said. “I say do what you want, even if your dad doesn’t like it. I’m sure he just wants what’s best for you, but sometimes parents don’t see that clearly.”

Like Han Solo, the lovable idiot, who had pushed his own son away because he’d been concerned about Ben’s career choices. Three years! She would have killed for three more years with Maz. When you had someone to love, it was selfish and stupid to waste time that could be spent with them.

The girl left after thanking her profusely, and Rey settled back into her seat with her arms crossed and brows raised high as the Solos reached Ben’s table. “Well?” she asked.

“You were right; I’m an idiot,” Han said, looking properly chastened.

“I guess I’m an idiot, too.” Ben ducked his chin, but his mouth curved in a surprisingly sweet smile.

“Good. Now that that’s all settled…” Rey took a deep breath, hating the words that were about to come out of her mouth, but also knowing they needed to be said. “Ben, I’d like to offer you the Falcon.”

His brows shot towards his hairline, and his eyes widened. “What?”

Her stomach twisted, but she pressed on. “It’s your family’s car, and it means something to you. If you want it, you should have it.”

“No.” He knelt before her on the grass, putting them at the same eye level. “That car is yours now, Rey. You put time and effort into restoring her, and you did it beautifully.”

“But you love her—”

“So do you.” He reached forward to cup her cheek, and she leaned into the touch, sighing at the comfort his warm palm provided. “Besides, a lot of what I love about that car is based in nostalgia. You’ve given her new life; it’s only right that she stay with you.”

“I’m not a member of your family, though—”

“Who cares?” He lifted his hand to stroke gently through her curled hair. “Your family name doesn’t matter as much as the love and care you put into something. Please, Rey.” His gaze turned pleading. “I want you to keep the Falcon.”

Her eyes were getting a little watery, so she closed them and nodded. His fingers continued to play in her hair and stroke down her cheek, and the tenderness of his touch broke her. Rey leaned forward, pressing her lips to his. It didn’t matter that Han was watching or that Mitaka was currently juggling flaming bowling pins mere feet away—all that mattered was expressing her respect and adoration for the man kneeling in front of her.

Ben kissed her back, wrapping his arms around her and tugging her against his chest. His lips were soft but insistent, and she shivered as he slid his tongue inside her mouth, lapping gently against hers.

Han coughed. “Well, I’m going to go get a burger,” he announced. Rey hid her grin against Ben’s mouth, and he nipped her lower lip in response.

She could fall into this man, she realized. Just fling herself off the edge and keep tumbling down forever and ever. It should have been a frightening thought—and maybe it was, if only because Ben lived in a different state—but she found the idea both comforting and exhilarating. She could belong with him, whatever that might end up meaning, and for someone as lonely as Rey, that wasn’t an outcome to be feared.

She sank her hands into his hair, twining her fingers through the soft locks. He grunted in response and scooted even closer, pressing her legs apart until he was as close as he could get, considering her voluminous skirts.

“It’s not that kind of show!” someone shouted, and Rey broke away from his lips, giggling. Ben looked adorably embarrassed, his ears tinged pink. He grinned, then seized one more quick kiss before backing away and rising to his feet. His black slacks were streaked with mud and grass, but she much preferred him looking like this—relaxed, happy, and messy—than the slick, put-together asshole she’d first encountered.

“So it went well?” she asked as he settled back into his seat.

He nodded. “Better than I ever would have anticipated.” A soft smile still played around his lips. “Thank you, Rey.”

“You’re welcome.” She leaned over, then punched his shoulder. “That’s for not calling your dad for three years.”

“Ow.” He rubbed the spot she’d battered. “Yeah, yeah. I’m a bad son.”

She didn’t want that to be the message he took away from this. “You really aren’t, Ben. You had a falling out with your dad, but that’s on him as much as you.” She sighed. “I just want people who have families to appreciate what they have. It might take work to maintain a relationship like that, but it’s better than not having one at all.”

“Oh, Rey.” Ben scooted his chair even closer to her, until they sat side-by-side behind her table. He wrapped his arms around her in a comforting hug. “I’m sorry; I probably sound like such an entitled, insensitive ass—”

“Hush,” she said against his cheek, pressing a kiss there. When she pulled back, she was pleased to see the rosy imprint of her lipstick on his pale skin. “You say an awful lot of terrible things about yourself, you know.”

He shrugged uncomfortably. “Well, self-awareness is important, right?”

She punched his shoulder even harder, making him yelp. “None of that. I want you to _stop_ saying bad things about yourself.”

“Rey…” He looked at her with an expression that made her heartbeats spin into an excited flurry, like snowflakes picked up by a swirling wind. If she had to describe that glow in his eyes with one word, she would term it _adoration_. “You’re so kind—so _good — _but you’ve only ever seen me here. This isn’t who I am normally. In San Francisco… well, I’m a grumpy workaholic with a temper and no friends. I don’t want to pretend I’m a better person than I am.”

It made Rey’s heart hurt to hear him describe himself that way. She knew too well how it felt to doubt one’s worth and lovability. Maybe he hadn’t had as traumatic an upbringing as she had, but he’d been lonely in his own way, and losing his family, combined with whatever abuse Snoke had subjected him to at work, had worsened his sense of isolation.

“Do you know what I see when I look at you?” she asked, clasping his hands between hers. “I see a man who was brave enough to choose his own path, even if it didn’t work out. I see someone funny and intense and passionate, who cares about history and classic cars. I see a man who has the patience to lovingly restore a vehicle.” A sly smile slipped onto her lips. “I see a generous lover who’s adventurous enough to fuck me against a tree.”

A few startled gasps came from nearby. Ben hid his grin behind his hand. “The Red Hat Society definitely heard that,” he said. She was pleased to see that his ears had turned pink again.

Rey shrugged, unrepentant. “So? It’s not like they aren’t familiar with sex.” In fact, if Rey was a betting woman—which she normally wasn’t, since one needed to have money in order to put it on the line—she would guess that the gasps had come from someone else. Older women tended to be downright _scandalous_.

“The point,” she said, squeezing his hands, “is that you don’t seem very kind to yourself. Maybe that’s why you’ve stuck with Snoke for so long—you don’t think you deserve to be happy.”

He flinched. “What are you, a therapist?” The words were sharp, but his tone wavered with insecurity.

“No, you ass,” she said, leaning in to brush her lips against his. “I’m someone who likes you very much. And I want you to be happy.”

His shaky exhalation puffed against her mouth. When she pulled away, that adoring look was back in his eyes. “Are you even real?”

She smirked. “Very much so. Do I need to drag you into the woods again to prove it?”

The air heated up between them, and Rey watched breathlessly as his pupils dilated. “I think,” he started in a low growl, “that—”

“Welcome to the Niima Classic Car Show!” A female voice crackled over the loudspeakers, making Rey jump. “It’s been a great day, and I hope everyone has enjoyed this as much as I have. It’s finally time to hand out awards. Exhibitors, please gather by the stage.”

It was Mayor Holdo, standing and swaying a little on the makeshift stage that had been erected next to the first ten spaces. Ben and Rey eyed each other before jumping to their feet. It was time to see who had won the bet.

“That trophy is mine,” Rey said. She felt pretty confident about it, honestly—most of the other exhibits were nice, but the Falcon’s restoration had been complicated, and her milkshakes had been a hit. Maybe she didn’t have Ben’s extensive historical research, but she had sugar on her side.

“You wish.” Ben laced his fingers with hers and gave her a heart-stoppingly cocky grin as he guided her towards the front. Han fell into step with them along the way, barely concealing a grin at the sight of them holding hands. He didn’t appear to have purchased a burger, after all.

Ben and Rey stood shoulder-to-shoulder as the mayor talked about community and the value of tradition. The speech was punctuated by giggles as the obviously-high woman struggled to keep her composure, but Rey didn’t mind. She was practically bouncing with anticipation. Her feet ached from her heels, her shoulders had gotten a little sunburned, and she was sweating from heat and excitement, but she felt so happy she thought she might burst. She, Rey Johnson, was holding hands with the handsomest man in the world, who also happened to share her passion for cars. She’d been fucked silly against a tree, and then she’d helped facilitate a family reunion three years in the making. Now—she hoped—she was about to be recognized for years of hard work restoring the Falcon.

A few lesser awards were announced: Best New Exhibitor, Most Creative Display, Best Restoration, Most Interesting Presentation, and a nebulously-defined Community Spirit Award. To her delight, Rey won Best Restoration. Her before-and-after pictures, as well as the information she’d happily shared with attendees about her work on the Falcon, had earned her the technical award. She beamed as she accepted the trophy from Mayor Holdo, and the joy filling her chest only increased when she say Ben hooting and hollering in the audience, his face lit with obvious pride.

Ben won Most Interesting Presentation for his scholarly research into the background of the Silencer. Rey paid him back for his enthusiasm by wolf-whistling and clapping so hard her hands stung. When he returned to her side, they compared awards. Even though the cheesy trophies were made of cheap gold plastic, Rey thought she’d never seen anything better than his engraved name nestling up against hers.

“And now,” Mayor Holdo said in a deep voice that might have sounded dramatic had she been significantly less high, “it’s time for our most coveted award. Best in Show goes to the exhibitor who demonstrated the best combination of restoration, verbal presentation, and display. The winner will get $1,000 and a year-long discount at Plutt’s Auto Repair.”

“Poor sod,” Rey said quietly. “Or they would be a poor sod, except I know for a fact the winner’s going to be me.”

“In your dreams,” Ben snarked back. “That poor sod is definitely going to be me.”

“And the winner is…”

Holdo paused for so long that Rey briefly worried the mayor had passed out.

“...Dopheld Mitaka and his 1933 Kuat-Entralla Imperial Dual-Windshield Finalizer!”

Rey’s jaw dropped, and when she turned to look at Ben, he wore an equally stunned expression. “The Finalizer?” he asked, slightly too loudly. “What the fuck?”

Rey clapped a hand over his mouth. “Shhh,” she said softly. “We need to be good sports.”

But truthfully, Rey’s gut was twisting at the announcement. Mitaka’s car was beautiful, and sure, he could bake cookies and juggle flaming bowling pins, and _fine_ , his restoration work was great, but…

Rey needed that $1,000 more than Mitaka did. It wasn’t enough to get her out of Jakku, but it was enough for something. Some small step towards freedom.

Her eyes blurred with tears, and she hated herself for what probably looked like petty disappointment to anyone watching. She lowered her head, hoping no one would notice.

“Hey,” Ben said, touching her chin as if to lift it. She resisted, continuing to stare at the ground as tears trailed down her cheeks. A few excruciating moments passed, and then Ben bent and picked her up in his arms, and her crying was interrupted by a surprised squawk as he carried her away.

He didn’t stop until they were back at their cars, far away from the crowd. Rather than let her go, he sat in his chair with her cradled in his lap. “I know that was disappointing for both of us,” he said softly, nosing into her hair, “but you seem really upset.”

She took a deep breath and held it. When the exhalation shuddered out of her, some of her innate restraint went with it. “I’m sorry. It’s not because I begrudge Mitaka his success.” Not entirely, at least.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” he said, stroking her cheek. “Just tell me what’s upsetting you.”

Fuck, how was this the same man who’d been so horrible to her at the gas station? Rey could scarcely comprehend it. It was as if they’d fast-forwarded through months of a relationship in only a few hours.

A relationship…

It was a crazy thought, but Rey had always been a little crazy. Considering how intensely she already felt about Ben, she decided to tell him the truth. “It isn’t because I felt entitled to win or anything,” she said, swiping at her tears. “I’ve wanted to leave Jakku for so long, but it’s hard to save money. Between rent, bills, and food, I’m barely able to save anything, and I don’t have the education or work experience to get a decent job. The gas station sucks, and Plutt pays me shit, and… I don’t know. I just thought that maybe if I got that prize money, I could finally start saving up enough to leave.”

She felt like the pettiest person in the world, since she was crying when she’d been given a perfectly lovely trophy for her restoration work, but Ben looked at her with compassion. “It’s okay to be upset.”

That was enough for Rey to start sobbing in earnest. She buried her face in his chest, letting out all of the anger, grief, and frustration of a lifetime of never belonging, of never having enough. “Sorry,” she gasped.

“Stop apologizing.” He stroked her hair, kissing her forehead repeatedly. “Seriously, Rey. It’s fine.”

If Rey could write her own dictionary, the way his warm brown eyes looked right then would be the illustration of the term _home_.

“You want to leave Jakku,” Ben said. “That’s understandable. More than understandable.” He grimaced. “It’s a shithole, to be frank.”

Her laugh was watery. “True.”

“You want to start a new life. A better one.”

“Yes.”

Ben took a deep breath that filled every inch of his deliciously muscled chest, then exhaled in a rush. “Rey, I don’t want you to feel weird about this, but... ”

“Yeah?” she asked when he trailed off.

He bit his lip. “I’m taking over Han’s garage at the end of the year. Do you want to come work there?”

She gasped with excitement, but he must have misinterpreted the sound, because he rushed onwards. “I know this is a lot, since we barely know each other, but you’re wonderful, and Han likes you, and it just seems right to... fuck, I don’t know. But you could work on the cars, and it wouldn’t be like you were my subordinate. We’d be equal partners.” He smiled bashfully, his cheeks turning pink. “Only if you want to, of course.”

Rey was torn between shrieking or grinning madly, but there were logistics to consider. “Ben… I don’t have anywhere to stay, and the Bay Area is expensive.”

His eyes lit up. “I can arrange something!” Abruptly, he seemed to realize how intense he was being, because he winced and cleared his throat. “I mean, I can help you find…” He shook his head, then swore under his breath. “Who am I trying to kid. Rey, I am an extremely rich man, both because of my family and my years with Snoke, and I would love to buy you whatever housing you want. If you’ll take it.”

Rey shifted on his lap, overwhelmed by the enormity of what he was offering. “I don’t want to be a charity case.”

He sighed. “Then don’t be. I’ll help you look for a place you can afford, or you can stay in Jakku if you prefer. Just… I really want to see you again. Not just _again_. I want to see you _a lot_.”

That was it; Rey was done for. Her belly was doing some sort of swooping thing, her heart was dancing a giddy little jig, and she couldn’t stop smiling. She was _infatuated_ with this man. “I want to see you a lot, too.”

His grin matched hers, and for a few moments they just stared at each other. Then their mouths were mashing together in a kiss that involved far too many teeth, since neither one of them could stop smiling, and Rey couldn’t have said who started it, but she never wanted it to end. She slid her hands into his hair, holding his head tenderly as her lips roved over his.

She was still perched sideways on his lap, but with a little wriggling, she was able to straddle him properly. His hands landed on her ass, and he guided her into a rocking rhythm over his lap.

“Oh.” Rey gasped when she felt the hard ridge of his erection nudging against her. She wanted it inside her, but this was a very public venue, and while Niima was a liberal community, it wasn’t _that_ liberal. “Ben, I need—”

“Fuck, me too.” He pulled away from her lips, panting. “Where should we go?”

Rey considered. She didn’t want to take him back to her tragic trailer in Jakku, but she didn’t want to fuck him in Plutt’s garage, either. That left very few locations that would be appropriate for a tryst.

Inspiration struck, and she grinned at him. “You ever been parking?”

His forehead creased in confusion. “Like… have I ever parked a car?”

Rey laughed delightedly. “No, silly. Parking is the age-old teenage tradition of driving to a secluded spot to make out.”

“Oh.” He ran a hand over the back of his neck in that bashful way he sometimes did. “I, uh, didn’t exactly get much action as a teenager.”

Rey pressed her lips together to suppress a grin. “Well, Mr. Solo, why don’t we make up for lost time?”

#

Forty minutes later, they pulled up at Rey’s favorite parking spot midway between Niima and Jakku. A narrow dirt road had led them to this clearing at the edge of a bluff overlooking the river. The trees rose thick and wild around them, and there wasn’t a house in sight.

They’d driven separately in the name of efficiency, although Rey still fully planned to drive the Silencer at some point, even though neither of them had won the bet. She’d let Ben drive the Falcon, too, obviously. They’d won something better, and that was worth celebrating.

Ben stepped out of the Silencer, looking around appreciatively. “This is a nice spot.”

Rey breathed in deeply, savoring the crisp scent of the woods. “The perfect location for getting bent over the hood of my car.”

He grinned. “Been thinking about that, have you?”

“Only every moment since you suggested it.”

He stalked towards her, backing her towards the front bumper and caging her in with his arms against the hood. His lips met hers without preamble, and Rey shuddered with excitement as his tongue sank into her mouth. He was an amazing kisser, and she couldn’t wait to have that clever tongue working its magic between her legs.

He trailed hot kisses down her throat towards the neckline of her dress. “You look beautiful in this dress,” he murmured against her skin, “but I’m afraid it has to come off.”

Rey giggled and turned around in his arms, presenting her back—and the zipper—to him. “Oh, no. What a terrible outcome.”

He tugged slowly at the bow holding her black sash together, and she shivered as it loosened. To her surprise, rather than tossing it aside, he wrapped it around her eyes, securing it at the back of her head. Rey gasped. “Why’d you do that?”

“Because I want your entire focus on what I’m about to do to you,” he murmured against her ear, his lips caressing the delicate shell. “On how good it feels.”

Rey shuddered, and her pussy clenched in anticipation. Ben’s fingers moved to the zipper, and he eased it down slowly, the burring sound loud in the silence of the forest. When he reached her waist, he slid his hands beneath the fabric and pulled it over her shoulders, threading her arms through the straps before pushing the dress and separate petticoats to her ankles. Next, his fingers hooked into the band of her underwear, and she felt the hot puff of his breath against her skin as he tugged them down. “Gorgeous,” he whispered, then pressed a kiss to the top of her thigh, right below the crease of her ass.

Rey balanced on the car as she stepped out of the garments. “Put them somewhere safe,” she said, unable to turn off the practical voice in her head in spite of being so aroused she might spontaneously combust. “I don’t want them to get dirty.”

“Already on it.” She heard him moving away, and she started to turn around, but his voice interrupted the movement. “You stay right where you are. Hands on the hood.”

“Oh, God.” Rey shuddered. She was entirely naked except for her heels and the blindfold, and she was aware of every inch of exposed skin. A faint breeze caressed her heated flesh, and when she shifted her legs further apart, the cool air stroked over her wet pussy.

She jumped when Ben’s hand came down on her shoulder. “Easy, sweetheart,” he said, rubbing her in soothing circles. “I’m going to touch you for a bit, all right?”

She nodded frantically and heard a ghost of a chuckle from him in response. His hands trailed over her back and sides, then around to her front, cupping and massaging her breasts. “You have the most amazing tits.” She felt the brush of his clothes against her back and legs, and it thrilled her to know that he was still fully clothed while she was naked and vulnerable before him.

When he pinched her nipples, her hips jerked back, and her ass pressed against the hard length in his trousers. She ground against it, desperate for the friction, but he stepped back, stilling her with a hand on her lower back. “Not yet,” he said, sounding a little hoarse. “I’m not done touching you.”

He nudged her legs further apart. One broad hand planted itself on her upper back, applying steady pressure until she bent forward, resting her torso against the hood of the Falcon. She gasped as her stiffened nipples met the cold metal.

His hands left her, and she knew he was staring at her. She felt wanton, bent over the hood of her own car with her legs spread for him. Her pussy throbbed under his gaze, and she grew even wetter. “Exquisite,” he said as he rested a hand on her backside. “I can see how wet you are. You’re glistening for me.”

“Ben.” She gasped his name. “Please, I need—”

“I know what you need.” His lips met her spine, and he kissed his way down her back, his hands squeezing her ass cheeks. When he reached the small of her back, he flexed his fingers, splitting her cheeks further, and Rey whimpered at both the stretch and the feeling of being totally exposed.

When his tongue danced over the tight pucker of her ass, she jumped, then laughed at her own alarm. “That wasn’t what I was expecting.”

“Hm.” He licked her again, and she squirmed with both embarrassment and arousal. It felt good, surprisingly. She was sensitive there, and her mortification at being so exposed made the act even sexier in a taboo sort of way.

He kept one hand on her cheek, but the other dropped to her ankle and slowly curved its way up her calf and thigh. His tongue worked the entire time, tracing delicate circles over her and even, for one heart-stopping second, breaching her entrance. She squirmed away from that, and he took pity on her, chuckling as he slid his mouth lower to more familiar territory. He held her in place with both hands wrapped around her thighs as he lavished her pussy with long, strong strokes of his tongue.

“God, Ben,” she said, flexing her hands against the hood of the car. “That feels so good.”

“We’re just getting started, sweetheart,” he murmured, and then his tongue moved down once more to cover her clit. Rey mewled and arched her back as he worked the sensitive bundle of nerves. “Hold still,” he said, tightening his grip on her thighs as he dragged his tongue back and forth, then circled her clit with the tip of it. Rey hoped his fingers left bruises—she wanted to see proof of this incredible experience written on her body tomorrow.

He slid his lips back up to her pussy, exploring her folds thoroughly as one of his hands joined his mouth. He rubbed her clit with the pad of his thumb, and Rey moaned, pressing her cheek harder into the hood of the car. Everything felt so much more intense with the blindfold on, the sensations magnified by her lack of sight.

Both mouth and finger moved, and he was back to licking her sensitive ass as he slid a finger inside her cunt. Rey’s inner muscles clenched around him, and he grunted in response.

“God, baby, you’re so wet.” He added a second finger, and Rey cried out at the intrusion. “I can’t wait to feel this hot little pussy squeezing my cock.”

“Yes!” Rey tried to buck back against him to send his finger in and out of her, but he held her fast. “Ben, _please_ , I need more…”

He chuckled, then crooked his fingers inside her, pressing down against her G-spot, and Rey actually screamed. She slammed the palm of her hand down on the hood, then immediately regretted it, stroking the Falcon in apology.

“You’re going to come for me first,” he told her, continuing the rhythmic press of his fingers. He must have performed some sort of contortion, because abruptly, his tongue covered her clit again, rubbing in firm circles as his fingers pumped inside her. “You’re going to get my face all wet, and I’m going to drink every drop.”

Rey couldn’t stop the series of moans and grunts pouring out of her mouth. This was unreal. “So good,” she gasped. “God, Ben, it’s so good—”

Tension gathered in her belly, and her pussy tightened around him, readying for the orgasm that was barreling towards her faster than a Bugatti Veyron Super Sport at max speed. One more flex of his fingers, and it crashed into her. Rey screamed and writhed as the tension exploded into fluttering, pulsing bliss. She was slapping the poor Falcon again and probably drooling and sweating all over the car, but she couldn’t control her body anymore. All she could do was come and come and come…

When she finally returned to Earth, she realized Ben was still talking. “—fucking gorgeous, sweetheart, Jesus. You’re going to kill me.” He slid his fingers out of her and stood, but Rey didn’t move. She didn’t think she could—her legs were trembling too much to hold her without the support of the car, and her muscles were loose.

He fumbled with the tie at the back of her head and stripped the blindfold away. The forest came flooding back, the early evening sky almost painfully bright after the darkness. Rey blinked a few times and realized there were tears in her eyes from her orgasm.

He leaned over next to her, studying her face as if determining that she was okay. Whatever he saw must have reassured him, because his mouth widened into the cockiest grin Rey had ever seen. “I think I got the hang of this parking thing,” he said smugly.

Rey chuckled and brushed a strand of sweat-dampened hair away from her face. “You’ve mastered the craft. You should probably teach classes.”

He looked gorgeous, with his messy hair and swollen, slick mouth. He licked his lips as if gathering every last bit of her taste, and the sight made Rey’s pussy throb again. “You’re wearing too many clothes,” she informed him.

He smirked. “So I am.” His hands lifted to his collar, and he started unbuttoning with a rapidity that told her exactly how desperate he was to have her. She would have helped him undress, but she was still too shaky to move from her position on the hood of the car. Ben stripped the shirt off and flung it aside, hardly seeming to care where it landed, and Rey gaped at the sight of his gorgeous, muscled chest.

“Jesus, Solo. You’re fucking shredded.” She’d felt the firmness of his muscles before, but seeing them was another matter entirely.

Like a typical man, he lifted an arm and flexed for her, and the bulge of his bicep was almost obscene. When he hunched a little and flexed his abs like some kind of bodybuilder, Rey decided his body deserved to be immortalized in marble. She’d write a sonnet to it if she had any idea how.

“Stop preening like a peacock and take your pants off,” she ordered him.

He chuckled and worked on his belt, then stripped his trousers and underwear to his ankles, revealing the biggest dick Rey had ever seen. If she had been a baby seal, he could have clubbed her to death with the thing. Her mouth watered for it, but her pussy needed it first.

Ben looked down, seeming to consider the practicality of removing his shoes when they were standing on damp, pine needle-strewn earth. “Should have considered this better,” he muttered before shuffling adorably behind her. He rested a hand on her back. “Oh, wait. The condom’s in the car.”

Rey was impatient to have him inside her. “Are you clean?” she asked. “I am, and I have an IUD.”

He made a choking sound. “Rey, are you… are you saying you…”

“I’m saying you can fuck me raw if you’re clean,” she said, propping herself up on her elbows so she could look over her shoulder at him.

He made another noise, something that sounded like “Hnngh.” His eyes were wide, his face shining with more enthusiasm than a kid on Christmas morning. “Holy shit, Rey. Yes. Yes, I’m clean.”

“Good.” She bit her lip and smiled at him. “Then get inside me.”

He stepped forward, gripping her hip with one hand as he guided his cock towards her drenched entrance. He rubbed the tip over her, nudging her clit a few torturous times, then finally lined himself up and started pushing inside.

He was big. Rey knew he was big—she’d had him inside her before, after all. She knew exactly what he was packing. But from this angle, he felt fucking huge. She gasped and arched her back, trying to make more room for him inside her body.

He groaned loud and long as he sank into her. “God, Rey, you’re so tight. You feel amazing.”

She whimpered, bracing herself as he pushed the last few inches in and bottomed out. He rested his forehead against her back and held still for a few moments, breathing heavily. He pressed a kiss to the top of her spine... then started to move.

Rey cried out as he pulled out of her and surged back in. He went so deep, deeper than anyone ever had before, deeper than she’d realized was possible. He nudged her cervix with every stroke, but even though it hurt a bit, Rey found that she liked the sharp sensation. Every stab of pleasure-pain was a reminder of how fully he was claiming her.

“Rey,” he breathed against her shoulder. “God, you’re perfect. I never want this to end.”

She slid a hand beneath their intertwined bodies to rub her clit, whining as a fresh spear of pleasure shot into her cunt. Her body loosened more, flooding him with moisture, and soon she’d relaxed enough that he wasn’t hitting her cervix with every thrust.

He set an easy but determined pace, pressing fully into her with every stroke. He braced his forearms on either side of her, so her sweat-slick back rubbed against his chest. It was strangely intimate, considering the animalistic nature of the position.

“You’re so good, Rey,” Ben said as he rolled his hips into her. “So perfect.”

Rey whimpered and rubbed her clit harder. No one had ever told her she was _good_ or _perfect_ before. She’d always been _too aggressive_ or _too odd_ or _too unwanted_. “You’re amazing,” she said, although it was hard to get words out when he was fucking her like this. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, and—fuck!”

He’d bucked into her extra hard at those words. “You mean it?” he breathed into her ear, and this wasn’t just a hot fuck in the woods; it had become something else entirely.

“I mean it.” They’d only just met, but somehow, she felt like she _knew_ him. Like he knew her. “I want to be with you.”

“I want to be with you, too.” He groaned. “God, Rey. I need to fuck you hard. Right now.”

Rey gasped and rocked back into him. “Do it.”

He cursed and pushed himself upright, then pressed a hand to her upper back. Rey took the hint, lowering her torso until her cheek was pressed flat against the hood, one hand still sandwiched between her cunt and the metal. The angle made his penetration even more devastating, and she whimpered at being so vulnerable.

His pace increased, his hips rolling hard and fast as he gripped her waist to hold her in place. The thick pressure of his cock was scrambling her brain, and Rey gasped and swore, mumbling nonsense as he fucked into her again and again and again. She pressed her fingers against her clit, letting his harsh strokes rub the swollen nub over them.

Another orgasm was building, and Rey could already tell it was going to wreck her. Her skin flushed hot, and her cunt squeezed with every stroke, as if it was trying to keep him inside her forever. “Ben, I’m gonna—”

“Me, too.” He gritted the words out, then squeezed her waist more tightly as he really let loose. The slapping sounds of their sex filled the air, mixed with moans and gasps from both of them, and Rey had never heard anything better.

“Oh my—” She broke off mid-sentence as the orgasm bowled her over, leaving her sweating and shaking. She screamed as her pussy clenched around him in rhythmic pulses, only distantly aware as he cursed and slammed deep, pouring his release into her.

He collapsed over her, pressing her torso against the car as they caught their breaths. Rey closed her eyes, basking in both the post-orgasmic glow and the thrill of having found someone she actually cared about and who actually cared about her. It made everything a thousand times better, and since Ben Solo was apparently a sex god, that was really saying something.

“Fuck,” he breathed against her neck.

“Uh huh.”

They rested together, listening to the sounds of the forest as a breeze wafted over their sweat-soaked bodies. It was fantastic, but admittedly, Rey couldn’t stay bent over the hood of her car forever. She shifted, and Ben stood up and pulled out of her. He dressed himself again, then helped her stand upright, and Rey squealed when he scooped her into his arms and carried her to the Silencer. He sat her down in the passenger seat, then knelt in the open doorway, looking at her like she was the first light of dawn after a long, brutal night.

“I’m going to quit tonight,” he told her. “Fuck Snoke, and fuck giving two week’s notice.”

She grinned and tucked a lock of hair behind his ear. “I’m glad.”

He took a deep breath, then grabbed her hand and pressed a kiss to the center of her palm. “And then… Rey, I’d really like it if you let me stay with you. At least for a little bit. I want to take you on dates and cook you dinner and get to know everything about you.”

Rey’s eyes prickled with tears. “I live in a trailer, Ben.”

“I don’t care,” he said vehemently. “Even if you lived in a cardboard box, I would want to be with you. Just… let me woo you. At least for a few weeks. And then, if you want…” He trailed off and looked down almost shyly. “You can come with me to work in my dad’s garage, and we can see where this goes.”

Rey’s heart was going to burst—either that or float up into the stratosphere like a weather balloon. “Yes,” she said, and she’d never meant anything as sincerely as she meant that one word. “Yes, Ben. I want that. All of it.”

He looked up at her with hope in his eyes, and it was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. She leaned forward, pressing her lips against his. “Yes, yes, yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this story. Please let me know your thoughts--I love reading comments!
> 
> If you want to reach me, I'm on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Andabatae1) and [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/andabatae-writes) (although very terrible at Tumblr).
> 
> If you want more snark and smut in a modern AU, check out my latest piece! [The Elusive Dance of the Porgus Adorabilis](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19053454/chapters/45258604).
> 
> If you want short canonverse smut:  
> [First Touch (one-shot)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18448580)  
> [Nighttime Confessions (one-shot)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18877201)  
> [The Interrogation Chair (one-shot)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19066312)
> 
> If you want long canonverse smut with a redemption arc:  
> [They Don't Have A Word For What We Are](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17867792/chapters/42167327)


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